Uniting Lands
by EnergistRayanette
Summary: Sherlock is a prince whose kingdom ended in civil war, he winds up in the kingdom of Claranѐ working as a manservant to the royal's who rule the land: The Watsons. The King and Queen are forced to make a drastic decision: To let Prince James Moriarty marry their daughter for the sake of saving the kingdom. He quickly becomes friends with 'Princess Harriet' who is actually John.


The kingdom of Viola was a grand mass of intellect and refinement, mountains stood tall in the fore ground, Dwarven men and Goblins mined for minerals and ore's, whilst Elves and Sorcerers taught those who wished to learn the art of healing or magic.

Viola was renowned for its culture, housing many important scholars and scientists since the kingdoms founding in 1587. Viola was the bottom kingdom of what had once been England before The Great Revolt Of The Four Nations; where Ireland, Scotland, England and Wales had split themselves up into minor kingdoms after a disagreement that lasted almost a hundred years.

At the centre of the city was a tall marble structure, a castle that belonged to the royals of the land. The man who had begun the royal family was called Jeremy Holmes son of Godwin Accueil, who was the greatest king to rule France since before King Pierce. Jeremy had migrated from France and had settled in Viola.

King Jeremy was Sherlock's grandfather, a bright yet cold man. Sherlock resembled him in ways that were not only physical but also of the mind. Jeremy had married Irene a daughter of a great Earl, however it had shown that he had not loved her for he kept a man by the name of David Quedim.

Irene was an elegant woman with fire red hair to match her conviction, eventually she gave birth to Violet Holmes. Violet was Sherlock and Mycroft's mother, she was gifted her mother's passion, dominating personality and beauty but also her father's intellect and powers of deductive reasoning.

She later married Siger Sherrinford a humble but intuitive farmer from the outskirts of Viola. Siger had happily taken her last name and they had ruled together whilst Viola thrived under their guidance. After twenty five years of marriage an illness struck the king, fever had come first leading him to start war in confusion, kill in insanity and rebel against those who loved him.

His illness became one that infected the land in the loosest of senses; the kingdom rebelled in civil war. This illness caused controversy across the kingdom, and finally after under a hundred years of monarchy the country was teared apart in 1672.

The remaining royals; Sherlock, Violet and Mycroft fled the country and lost any claim to noble blood that they had. Sherlock had been sixteen when they had left their home; he was as cold as his predecessor Jeremy and as bright as all the members of their family, his brother Mycroft was his elder by seven years.

Sherlock had never had any intention of ruling; before the war he had intended on learning the noble sciences of both chemistry and alchemy, after that he had intended to travel and find a calling for himself.

After fleeing they had wondered disgraced through the woods, relinquishing their own pride to survive through the harsh winter by means of temporary jobs. Eventually after a year of drifting they came across the capital city of Claranѐ, a kingdom that stood where Scotland had once laid this country was ruled by the infamous Watson family.

He didn't know much about the family, the kingdom was one of loyalty and honour. Claranѐ often hosted fighting tournaments for those of noble standing to prove their worth in combat; it was not often that a member of the Holmes family would care for such a physical show of superiority thus not much was known about how the kingdom operated.

The city was decorated with regal banners that hung from tall steel lanterns that stood vertically in a line towards the crowded market place. Under Sherlock's feet was a cobble stone floor worn down with the years it had been in place, the market itself was bustling with life and a pulse of magic that seemed to surround the very heart of Claranѐ.

Washing lines dangled haphazardly from high above the market, the washing seemed to connect houses together in a way that looked like a conscious effort.

To the north of the market was the town centre where the castle stood, the castle showed signs of wear and tear and was made of simple bricks piled high. Turrets were spaced out at the pillars of the castle, red and gold banners hung from the end of one pillar to the next; on the banner was a phoenix, the Watson family crest reminding him of his own family's crest; the eagle.

Sherlock felt a sliver of distaste, a castle was supposed to look regal and impenetrable; the castle looked neither; however he chanced a look at the city gate that was made of melted dragon scales and steel and he could easily feel an enchantment placed upon the entrance.

His mother looked at her children indecisively, shaking her head she told them to look for work; Mycroft wandered towards the office of records and Sherlock towards the market. With distaste Sherlock avoided the market stalls; by chance he came across an advertisement on a bulletin board.

He stared up at the ink that simply said:

'_Manservant wanted at Watson castle, requirements: must be well educated, literate and able to follow orders. Wages per week: three hundred and fifty gold coins, to enquire ask Sir Dimmock of Dale.'_

After asking around he was told that Sir Dimmock was a knight that commanded the castle's fifth turret and a friend of Clara the head maid. Sherlock quickly made his way to the castle.

"Hey lad! Not just anyone one is allowed in 'ere!" exclaimed one of the guards that defended the palace entrance.

Sherlock coughed. "You will find that I am not just anyone, I am here to apply for the application posted by Sir Dimmock. I ask that you move aside."

The guards stared dumb struck at the pale youth, after a moment they broke out in laughter.

"Look at that a varlet who doesn't know 'is place, Harold I don't even think we should let 'im pass. What do you think?"

The other guard nodded and the two pushed the former prince to the floor with their shields, they laughed at the anger painted across his face. Before Sherlock could say anything else a cough caught his attention.

"Court Physician Michael!" The guards exclaimed.

Sherlock stared at the man they called Michael; he was round and plump and appeared to be in his late thirties to early forties, a pair of spectacles stood at the end of his nose.

"I believe this young man wanted admittance?"

"But Sir-"

The healer frowned. "Do you wish for the Prince to miss his lesson?" They shook their heads.

"Then let the boy through."

The two nodded and reluctantly opened the door for both Sherlock and the healer, the two parted from each other without a word; Sherlock heading towards Dimmock's quarters and Michael to the Prince's study.

Sherlock soon met with the knight and after an in length discussion he had proved himself worthy of the job. As a manservant he was expected to help with whatever was required of him, he was not yet tied to a particular person; as being a personal servant to any of the royals was higher paid job with as much prestige that could be granted to one in serving.

* * *

In the course of his time at the palace his eighteenth birthday had passed, his job throughout that time had been simple enough; clean, manual labour, general serving, food serving and even cooking on occasion (which if he was honest he found immensely boring).

He had learnt something about the Watson's whilst he had worked there, he had learnt that the Prince whose name was John was an expert swordsman and archer, but also took lessons from the Court Physician who he had met on his first day in the kingdom; it was often speculated that the Prince had an almost magical aptitude for the art of healing.

His sister on the other hand was the more rebellious sibling, instead of going by her name (Harriet) she often went by Harry and she also made regular trips to the lower town (where the peasants lived) often in the company of Clara the head maid.

Sherlock had yet to see either of the monarchs as they were either too busy for him to see or they were not at the castle whilst he was.

During that same year a bad harvest swept the kingdom, leaving crops ruined and the food supply tiny compared to those who lived in Claranѐ. Many died of starvation and those who did not were vulnerable and prone to illness, rations were given out trying to save the citizens but not much luck came of it.

The kingdom was near the state of collapse when a foreign diplomat came to visit the castle one over cast day. The foreigner arrived on a stallion decorated with the colours green, orange and white, on the flag that the man carried was a gold harp on a blue background; the crest of Irivale.

After being let into the castle the man introduced himself as Sebastian Moran, Duke of Irivale and Colonel of the Irivale army. He was relatively well known, he was a renowned archer with skill that few could best, and his prowess was only rivalled by that of Prince John's talent with the bow.

Sherlock surveyed the Duke. _"His fingers are blistered and across his palm are some minor scars, consistent with using a longbow of about sixty five inches tall. On his left index finger he bears a ring with the royal insignia, he is close with a member of the monarchy. A princess? Hmm unlikely, theory needs reconsideration."_

Moran knelt on the floor of the throne room with his head bowed in respect. "King Hamish, Queen Alana." He greeted.

"Dear Duke what is it you wish for in this failing land?" Alana asked the man.

"I do not wish for anything, in fact I am here with a proposition from Prince James the fourth." He announced plainly.

Sherlock halted briefly at the name, he was sure he had heard it once before however he could not recall when or where he had heard of the prince.

"Of what nature?" The king asked.

"Irivale will provide you with food and the means to help with the growing of new crops." Moran explained.

"That is excellent news!"

Sherlock watched the king and queen; he was stood by the table waiting to pour drinks if needed. Their faces expressed their relief.

"Thank you." The queen said a kind smile on her worn face.

"However Prince James in exchange for his help wishes for your daughter's hand in marriage."

The Watson's looked on in horror. The queen covered her mouth in shock and the king frowned.

"Is there not anything else that we can give him? Our daughter is not even twenty!" the king reasoned.

"The Prince is unwilling to change his terms. Sir it is not a time to be making enemies, war is ripe across the continent the Prince only wishes to heal and ally with your kingdom."

He knew they would give in to the Duke's demands, if their kingdom was to survive it was necessary that they accept.

"We need time; Harriet is most unready for marriage. How long do we have?" Alana asked.

Moran pondered for a moment. "A month to prepare her, but a year before the wedding, the prince knows how difficult a marriage to a stranger is, he has expressed great interest in courting her before marriage."

The two breathed a small sigh of relief. "We accept." Hamish said reluctantly.

* * *

When John had heard the news he had been practising with his bow it wasn't something he had expected to hear over light conversation with his sister. His eyes focused entirely on the centre target, he felt the air shifting around him and his mind narrowed to a single thought.

"_Hit the target."_

"John. I'm getting married." Harriet said with sad sigh.

His fingers slipped at that and his grip on the bow too, the arrow instead of hitting the target hit a nearby tree. "What!" he exclaimed as he shook his arm trying to relieve it of the pain from the recoil.

Turning around to face her, his eyes were wide with shock. "Married? Really? I'm so happy for you Harry, is it Clara?" he asked excited for her.

"John…it's not Clara." Slowly she told him, explained to him the situation.

"Irivale? Irivale has never wanted anything to do with us before." John pondered.

Harriet nodded. "I thought it was strange too, I know we're in trouble but the Moriarty line is known for being ruthless and not exactly _sympathetic_."

"The prince has us over a barrel of mead; he's got us right where he wants us and we're too vulnerable to say no. I mean Irivale in the past whilst during King Marcus's reign was known to take over an ally's kingdom out from under their very nose."

Harriet frowned. "I don't like the sound of this Johnny, what am I going to do?"

John wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "No, what are _we _going to do. Leave it to me Harry, I'll think of something."

* * *

He stormed into the throne room; his expression was one of determination, this had to work. His father and mother were in the middle of a meeting with a group of Earls, Dukes and other men loyal to the crown.

"John what are you doing!" His father exclaimed.

"Father we need to talk." John said in a serious tone.

The king looked around the table at the lords of Claranѐ. "We shall continue this meeting later."

At that the lords left the room and any remaining servants scarpered from the scene, when the door closed a final time John began.

"When did you think to tell me that you had decided to marry off my sister?" He asked angrily.

"John-" His mother started.

"You know nothing of this man who wants to take my sister, your _daughter_ away. Can't you see this is exactly what happened during Marcus's reign!" John explained.

His father stood up quickly planting his hands firmly on the table. "I will hear no more from you; a son is not a recreation of their father. If you have a problem with the man who is saving our kingdom from ruin I would suggest you learn some respect."

John opened his mouth to speak again but was cut off by his father.

"Leave John, I do not wish to talk with you any longer."

Clenching his teeth angrily he left the room with a slam of the door.

* * *

"You what? John are you mad?" Harriet exclaimed in shock.

"Just hear me out Harry-" John tried.

"John, your plan is ludicrous."

"Harry, it's the only option we have." He told her truthfully.

"It doesn't mean I have to like it. Do you even know how difficult this is going to be for either of us?" She asked.

"I know, I know. But this is the only way I can make sure he isn't planning to kill us all, it'll only be once every month or so when he comes around to court 'you'. I'm sure you'll make a great me."

"It isn't me I'm worried about Johnny, are you sure you can do this?"

"Positive. Now come on, lace this up would you?" he said indicating to the corset he was wearing.

"You're going to be the death of me." She said with a sigh as she pulled the laces tight.

"Ow!" John cried.

"Don't you complain John Hamish Watson. You're a woman now; just wait till you experience child birth." She joked trying to lighten the atmosphere.

He huffed. "Not. Going. To happen."

* * *

The throne room door opened when John entered, his head was covered with a wig creating the illusion of a head full of long blonde waves that reached to his hips. Makeup masked his face, blush dusted his cheeks and charcoal darkened his eyes.

He wore a long dress that brushed against the stone flooring, at the waist of the dress there was a corset that was tied at the back with lace. The dress was red and the corset section of it was a mixture of black and red, the lace and any embroidery was gold as to fit in with the country's crest.

By his side was Harry, her hair styled in a military cut and her chest was bound as to conceal her small chest, she also wore chain mail and a long cloak with the crest stitched into it. The colouring of the cloak itself was black but had a gold stitched boarder around the out lining of the cloak.

The room was full of aristocrats and nobles of a high standing, a dining table stretched from when end of the room to the other; their father and mother sat at the end of the table and their guest Prince Moriarty sat directly at the other end.

Sherlock immediately noticed their arrival. He took a long moment to examine the pair although the two did not notice his actions. _"Harriet, small chest and a somewhat male appearance, her stance resembles one of military training; Knight training most likely. Also her walking is slightly off; her right leg is being used to hold her up more than her left, although it is obvious the left is dominant. Perhaps some childhood injury? Likely, but impossible to be certain at this distance." _He deduced.

He tilted his head towards John observing 'her' more closely even as he poured wine for the courtiers. _"Her finger tips are calloused and her palms are scarred. Constant use with a weapon of some kind, two likely suspects being a bow or a sword. Her shoulder is bended slightly at an awkward angle suggesting a former wound or break to have occurred. Childhood injury seeming more likely." _He continued shamelessly.

The 'brother' on the other hand did not coincide with the rumours that had made themselves apparent during Sherlock's employment. 'John' was slightly more curved, rounder than 'his' 'sister'. His posture was relaxed and he had no signs of hard work or weapon usage on his hands.

The sword at his side only appeared to be for show if his data was correct. It wasn't the first time a royal lied to gain respect.

He was quickly startled from any deductions when a crystal clear ring met the air. Ah so they were doing the announcement now were they?

"Our kingdom has been through great turmoil of late, many of our loved ones have been lost to famine and illness. Even those who have lived through this hell have yet to fully recover their wits. But all is not lost, with help from an outside kingdom we have recovered from the disasters that have stricken us tenfold this year. Your saviour is not I or my family, his is Prince to the kingdom of Irivale, he is here as an honoured guest, welcome him as you would do a friend or an ally." The king declared.

The king promptly raised his glass. "To Prince Moriarty!"

"To Prince Moriarty!" the crowd chorused.

"I am flattered at such a welcome! I hope to aid you further in the future months, however I have an announcement to make. Within this year I will begin courting the dazzlingly beautiful Harriet, I intend to make her my wife and unite our lands as allies."

At this the crowd cheered joyfully however Sherlock couldn't help but feel that something was not quite right with Prince Moriarty.


End file.
